The Ocean Between Us

“It’s not that we can’t afford it,” he said. “We can, if we’re careful. But years ago, we agreed that owning a house doesn’t fit our lifestyle. When I retire, we’ll go anywhere you want. That was always the plan.”

“Plans can change.” Once upon a time, she had agreed with him about the burden of a house, given their way of life. But once upon a time was long ago.

“When did you change the rules on us?” She tried to answer, but he cut her off. “A house is a burden. A financial hemorrhage. What’s the point of buying a place when we’re moving in a few years?”

“What’s the point? How about our future? How about doing something for us instead of the Navy for a change?”

“I thought you were on board with our long-term plans. You’ve raised the three best kids in the world. I’m riding high in the Navy. What can a career for you add to that?”

“I can’t believe you just asked me that.”

“I can’t believe what you’re asking of me.” He opened a dresser drawer and started rummaging around. “Why now? Why this house?”

“There’s something about it, Steve. It’s special. At least come and see it with me.”

“It’s pointless, Grace. A waste of time.”

“I don’t need your permission to buy a house,” she said.

His back stiffened. “You wouldn’t do that.”

She had no idea whether she would or not. He seemed a lot more sure of her than she herself was.

“We both agreed that we wouldn’t get a permanent house of our own until I retire,” he repeated.

“So retire, and we’ll buy the house.”

“Very funny, Grace.”

“Maybe I wasn’t joking.”

He yanked a T-shirt over his head. “Yes,” he said. “You were.”

CHAPTER 8

“It’s the last official night of summer,” Emma said after they dropped off Katie and Brooke at the theater.

“How’s that?” Brian asked, jiggling his knee as he signaled to pull out into the road. Even while driving, he never sat still. He was always drumming, tapping or somehow moving around. It drove his teachers nuts, but his coaches appreciated all that excess energy.

“Dipshit,” she said. “School Monday.”

“Yippee.”

“So not only is it the last night of summer, it’s the last Saturday night before senior year.” The last time she’d go school shopping with her mom and Katie, the last time she and Brian would head out into a clear, cool night, looking for a fitting way to mark the end of summer before they went their separate ways.

He eased out onto the road. “Yeah, so?”

“So nothing,” said Emma, tucking away an old feeling of exasperation. “It was just an observation.” Sometimes she wished her twin had been a girl. Brian was such a guy. So dense and literal.

“We should make the most of it, then,” he said a moment later, surprising her. “Where’s the party?”

“Mueller’s Point,” she said, “as usual.” They knew all the common rendezvous points, because they’d had the entire summer to figure out the social scene. Both twins were adept at making friends quickly and easily, wherever they went. It wasn’t a gift, exactly. It was a survival skill. Moving every couple of years, you either learned to adapt and settle in fast, or you died the slow, excruciating, life-scarring death of the social outcast.

The life of a Navy brat was not for wimps. By the age of six, she and Brian had learned to reconnoiter a place, move in and make their mark in just a short time. The system wasn’t flawless, but it worked pretty well. To this day, she still kept in touch with a handful of kids all over the globe, kids she’d met and brought into her heart, shared a warm but temporary bond of friendship with before moving on. It was frustrating sometimes, because every once in a while, she really clicked with someone, only to have to leave just when it felt comfortable to share her life with that person. Each time she moved away, the goodbyes were filled with heartfelt promises: I’ll never forget you. I’ll write every day. I’ll come back to visit each year. Even though delivered with absolute sincerity, the pledges were never fulfilled. Not even once. Emma figured that was life for you, an unending strain of farewells and false promises.

“I guess it is pretty weird,” Brian said as he drove toward the waterfront county park. It had a boat ramp, a dock and a fire pit on the beach. Over the summer they’d learned it was the favored hangout for a sizable group of kids. “The thought of no more school, ever.”

“Except college,” she reminded him.

“Right. College.” His voice sounded flat and glum.

“Quit pouting,” she said. “You’ll be playing baseball and running track. How bad can that be?”

“Dad wants me to go to the Naval Academy.”

Her brother would be offered an appointment, of course. He was a shoo-in. But getting the appointment was only the first hurdle. Getting through was the harder task. Unlike Brian, Emma had always been fascinated by the process. It took everything you had, and more. It took a willingness to give up your whole life, to surrender everything that made you unique. You had to make yourself over in the image of the Navy. A warrior with a spine of steel. And a degree in engineering.

“It’s not such a bad idea, Brian.”

“Geez, not you, too.”

“It’s a hell of a deal. You get an education and a job, guaranteed. An awesome job, by the way.”

“And Dad gets his son in the Naval Academy,” Brian said. “That’s what it’s all about, and don’t pretend it isn’t.”

“Well, sure it is, but so what?”

“He wants it for him, not for me. He never got to go to the Academy, and he thinks sending me there will fix it.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“I could run off and join the circus.”

“Right. You could call your act World’s Dumbest Brother.”

“Well, hell, Emma. I’m eighteen years old—”

“Really? I never would have guessed.”

“Very funny. What I’m saying is, when does it get to be my life? When do I get to do all that Goethe shit about going confidently in the direction of my dreams?”

Although she had the urge to laugh at him, Emma was caught by what he said. “You should be doing that now.”

He was quiet for a while as he drove. The night swished by, a streak of stars above the treetops. Finally Brian said, “I am.”

“You are what?”

“Going for what I want, not what Dad wants.”